


Struggling for oxygen

by Anathema Device (notowned)



Series: Coming up for air [3]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, M/M, Milady is not evil in this, Not a lot of smut either
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 07:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7793164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notowned/pseuds/Anathema%20Device
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Athos and D'Artagnan are still navigating their new relationship, and Anne de Bourbon is joyfully waiting for the birth of her baby. Unfortunately, there are those who would bring all of this to a crashing end, and they don't care who they hurt to get what they want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Aramis and Porthos flew back from Barcelona two days before New Year’s Eve, and a day before they had to return to duty. D’Artagnan came to collect them at the airport. He spotted Aramis and waved. “ _Feliz navidad_!”

Aramis hugged him. “Merry Xmas to you too, Charles.” He passed d’Artagnan over to Porthos, who picked him up and spun him around.

“Jesus, Porthos, put me down,” d’Artagnan muttered. Porthos obeyed with a grin, and took charge of the luggage trolley. “This way.”

“Did you have a good time in Lupiac?” Aramis asked.

“Yeah, it was great. Boring, but nice. You?” D’Artagnan opened the boot of the Lexus to let them stow their bags, before jumping into the driver’s seat. Once they were onboard, he took off.

“We had a lovely time, didn’t we, love?” Aramis smiled at Porthos in the rear-view mirror. “Met my new nephew, Diego.”

“Got puked on as well,” Porthos said.

D’Artagnan made a face. “Ugh. I managed to miss that with all of mine.”

“Is Athos back yet?” Aramis asked.

“Yeah, since the day after Christmas. I don’t think he had fun.”

“Probably not,” Aramis said, thinking back to the funeral less than two months ago. “When did you get back?”

“Yesterday. Madame had us all up at the house for lunch and supper. It was lovely.”

“I bet it was.” Aramis didn’t look at Porthos. The subject of Aramis’s complicated feelings for Anne de Bourbon had nearly wrecked their relationship, and he was _not_ going to bring it up here. Or at all. “When do we started moving out?”

“Tomorrow morning, early. Constance comes back tonight, so Madame and Monsieur, her, Treville, you, Porthos, Édouard and Serge will fly out with Milady and me piloting. Milady will transfer you guys by helicopter. I’ll do an extra run with Édouard in the jet after that, and pick up the luggage.”

“That’s a lot of flying.”

“I know. It’s great.” D’Artagnan grinned like a kid opening his Christmas presents. “Paul and Édouard will handle any other pickups until Madame and Monsieur are ready to come back.”

“Of course. Is du Plessis coming?”

“Later, probably not until the last week in January. Madame will return before then though, because of the baby.”

“She’s unwell?” Aramis asked.

“No, no. Just neither Milady nor I want to be delivering the sprog on the plane.”

Porthos chuckled. “Can’t imagine why. You ever delivered a baby, Aramis?”

“Several times. I know Anne has, but no, a Learjet is not the place for a birth if you can help it.”

“King is still trying to decide whether to come back early or not. Queen doesn’t want him to. I think she’s already tired of him fussing, though I never said that and you didn’t hear it, okay?”

“Hear what?” Porthos said, and Aramis grinned.

D’Artagnan phoned ahead to let Athos know they were approaching the residence, so he was waiting for them at the garage when they arrived. “Merry Christmas,” Aramis said as Athos walked over to the car.

“If you say so,” Athos said, though he smiled. “You have eighteen hours to do laundry and repack. We’re leaving here by helicopter at seven am sharp.” He picked up one of the suitcases, Aramis grabbing the other one. “Serge is already shutting down the kitchen, so he would appreciate if you would eat at the residence, and not take food back to the cabins. Breakfast is on the flight. Leave your main luggage in the residence and just take what you need for the day. The bags will follow us later.”

“Welcome back,” Porthos muttered.

“Sorry. We can relax once we’re in Chamonix. Sort of.”

“By which he means,” d’Artagnan said, “not at all.”

“No, we do get minutes here and there,” Athos said, grinning at the kid.

Aramis was confused. Normally post-Christmas Athos was a complete sod, and since he’d had a miserable Christmas with his family, one might assume he would be as cheerless as usual. Yet here he was, joking and smiling and generally behaving like a normal person. Which Athos _wasn’t_ even on a good day.

The resolution of things with Milady must have helped, but Athos was never going to be the life of any party—it was one of the best things about him, Aramis thought. Once d’Artagnan and Athos had delivered their luggage to the cabin, and Aramis was left alone with Porthos, he looked at his lover. “Okay, where is the real Athos, and who’s that pod person out there?”

“What are you on about now?”

“Athos. Smiling.”

“A month in Chamonix might have something to do with that, love.” Porthos began to unpack and pull out their dirty clothes.

“We do this every year, and every year he’s a sulky arse.”

“So? He’s allowed to change. Go find the snow gear, will you?”

Aramis gave up. Maybe Athos had just pulled himself together. Or he was sleeping with Milady again. Not Aramis’s problem. Whatever got him through the day was fine by Aramis.

********************

Athos was waiting for the quiet knock and pulled the door open as soon as the first strike sounded. D’Artagnan grinned as he came in. “You should just give me a key, you know.”

“Maybe when we get back.” Athos walked back into the living room. “You can leave your bags here if you like but you know you can’t drink.”

“I know. Calm down.”

“I can’t help it. January is always a mess.”

D’Artagnan pulled him into a hug and rubbed his back. “It’ll be fun. How much danger can King and Queen be in, realistically?”

Athos relaxed into the embrace. “Realistically, very little, but a house full of strangers to each other, booze, a pregnant boss, water, snow—”

D’Artagnan shut him up by kissing him, and Athos allowed himself to be distracted by d’Artagnan’s clever lips and tongue, the way his hips moved against Athos’s body. “You were saying?”

“No idea.” He stroked d’Artagnan’s cheek. “We can’t do this at Chamonix.”

“I know. Unless we’re _very_ discreet.”

“Charles.”

“There’s not actually a rule against it, Athos. Aramis and Porthos will be cool about it, and so will Treville.”

“I just don’t feel like spending weeks having the piss taken out of me.”

“Chicken.”

“Bwuk buk buk buk.” D’Artagnan grinned and reached for him again, but Athos ducked out of his grasp. “No, we need to sleep. Anne will crucify you if you turn up bleary-eyed.”

“And we all know you mean that literally. Can I use the bathroom first?”

“Go for it.”

Athos stripped to his underwear, making sure his holster, phone, radio earpiece and cuffs were with the clothes he would wear in the morning. He wouldn’t even get coffee until Anne dropped them at Le Bourget, and he knew what he was like in the morning without it. He’d make sure d’Artagnan set his stuff out too. The kid was much the same without coffee.

He brushed past d’Artagnan as he went into the bathroom as d’Artagnan left it, and did what he had to do as quickly as possible, before returning to the bedroom, jumping into bed and cuddling with his companion. D’Artagnan kissed him. “Seriously, you’ll have some fun. We’ll ski, won’t we?”

“Hope so. But we’ll end up minding some of the guests who can’t. Been there, done that, got the bruises.”

“Bet you’re wrong.”

“Not a chance.” He pulled d’Artagnan closer to his chest. “Looking forward to the flying?”

“Oh yeah. Anne’s lead pilot again, but it’s always great to be up in the cockpit.” D’Artagnan humped against his body a little. “Almost as good as sex.”

Athos tangled his hand in d’Artagnan’s hair. “We said we’d wait, Charles.”

“I know. Teasing, Athos. Teasing.”

“Cheeky boy.” Athos rubbed his beard over d’Artagnan’s cheek. “You’re good for me.”

“Hope so. I’d hate to be snuggling with you like this and find it was bad for you.”

Athos kissed him. “Go to sleep. Oh, did you put all your things together with your clothes?”

“Yes, dear. Shut up now.”

Athos grinned. “Goodnight.”

He was asleep in minutes.

********************

Forcing himself awake on a cold, dark winter’s morning was always difficult, but when d’Artagnan had to drag himself out of a warm, comfortable bed and Athos’s arms as well, it was hellish. But since Athos had to get up as well, d’Artagnan was able to make it, jumping into his clothes as quickly as possible so he could steal a quick snog with Athos before they had to walk to the helipad.

“Weather forecast?” Athos murmured against his neck.

D’Artagnan checked his phone without letting Athos go. “We’re on. Better move.”

Two minutes later, he said, “We really do have to move now.” This time Athos let him go, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. D’Artagnan wondered if any of his friends had ever seen this side of the man.

They picked up their bags and headed to the residence in light snow. Aramis and Porthos were already there, stamping their feet outside. Constance was inside, dumping her suitcase. “‘Morning, gents, and merry Christmas,” she said, giving Athos and d’Artagnan each a kiss. “Looking forward to the skiing?”

“If we get any, yeah. Where’s Treville?” d’Artagnan asked.

“How would I know?” But her smile said otherwise.

“Anne’s ready to depart, so we should get down there. Madame and Monsieur are on their way, with Treville.”

Serge and Édouard were already on board the helicopter, with Anne in the pilot’s seat. D’Artagnan climbed into the co-pilot’s chair. “Good morning, captain.”

She smiled. “Hi, Charles. Wind’s light, thank God. May pick up at Geneva though. Let’s run through the pre-flight.” Though d’Artagnan wasn’t yet qualified to fly the helicopter, Anne was keen for him to get as much experience as possible, and though he wouldn’t touch the controls, he could do the pre-flight check with her same as he would when they reached Le Bourget and the Lear jet.

The de Bourbons and Treville climbed on board three minutes later, Monsieur and Treville making sure Madame was quite comfortable before Monsieur spoke over the mike. “Ready when you are, captain.”

“Everyone wearing seatbelts?” Anne asked, then started the engine. Six minutes later, she brought them in to land at Le Bourget airport, near the private hangar housing the de Bourbon jet. D’Artagnan went over to open up the aircraft and turn the lights and heating on before the passengers boarded, while Anne saw to the helicopter’s storage in the hangar.

She climbed on board and the hangar crewman positioned the tug while she and d’Artagnan did their pre-flight check. Then d’Artagnan spoke over the PA. “Ladies and gentlemen, please prepare for take off. Stow all loose items and fasten your seatbelts.” The tug pulled them clear of the hangar, detached, and Anne taxied up to the runway.

An hour and a quarter later, they landed at Geneva Airport, where everyone but d’Artagnan and Édouard transferred to the de Bourbon’s second helicopter which they kept hangared for their use while staying at their Chamonix chalet. “Safe flight,” Anne said to d’Artagnan as he waited to close the jet’s hatch behind everyone.

“You too.” He looked for Athos in the gloom, and waved, figuring the others would think he was waving to them all. Which he was, but also to Athos.

He didn’t get a chance to see the chalet until after one o’clock when Anne collected him, the residence’s two housekeepers, Luc Brujon, their second pilot Paul, and a stack of suitcases on d’Artagnan’s second Geneva arrival, and flew them all up to the de Bourbon’s winter accommodation. It was their home at least a month every year, and when Madame wasn’t pregnant, several weeks scattered through the ski season and occasionally in the summer too. A skeleton staff lived there year round, being supplemented by temporary housekeepers, security. and drivers when needed, except on this January stint, when the Paris residence closed down and half the household staff came with the couple and their friends.

Athos had warned him that their team would be acting as attendants and general factotums while at the chalet, in addition to providing security, and thus, in theory, would be on duty or on call twenty-four hours a day every day. In reality, there would be time here and there for their own fun, as Treville rostered half the team for the first part of the day, the other half for the second part. Anne and Paul, who could fly both the jet and the helicopter, were kept off the roster for transporting guests who only stayed a week at most, from Geneva, with d’Artagnan and Édouard flying staff, family and highly favoured guests back and forth to Paris.

January wasn’t just a holiday for Monsieur, as he used the break to meet and reward new business partners, court his directors, and entertain prospective developers who might partner with him. For Madame, however, it was purely relaxation, and especially this year since it would be the last time she could do that without children. The de Bourbons generously invited the families of key staff to come and stay as well. Aramis’s sisters and mother had done so in the past, though Porthos and Anne had no living relatives to invite, and Athos had never brought his along for different reasons. Constance had brought Pierre before he started school, but this year, he would be with his father.

“There will be other small children around, unfortunately,” Anne told d’Artagnan as they flew to the chalet. “And worse—teenagers.”

“Worse?”

“Booze, drugs, indoor swimming pool, and skis. Bad mix. Athos will be in a filthy mood a lot of the time, just warning you.”

“And this is different from normal how?” She laughed into the mike at the truth of that.

She radioed ahead to give the house their ETA, and when they landed at the helipad, Athos and the team were there to assist with unloading passengers and luggage. “Bad news,” Athos said as they hauled the trolley loaded with suitcases towards the house. ‘We all have to share rooms. You’re with me, d’Artagnan.”

“Huh? You didn’t mention this before.”

“I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. I asked Treville if you could share with him but he pulled rank. And since Aramis and Porthos are a done deal, Milady and Constance ditto, you’re stuck.”

D’Artagnan made a face. “I suppose I’ll have to put up with it. I hope you don’t snore.”

Anne walked past the two of them, smirking. “Like a steam train, actually.”

“Thanks, love,” Athos called after her.

She waved without looking back. “Any time, sweetheart.”

Athos and d’Artagnan split off with their own bags up to the rather posh double bedroom they would be sharing for the duration. Athos shut the door behind them. “Snoring, eh?”

“Who knew?” d’Artagnan said, grinning before pulling Athos into a hug. “You didn’t tell me, bastard.”

“I thought it would be a nice surprise. I hoped it would. But you can always bunk with the kitchen staff if you prefer.”

“Not on your life.” D’Artagnan kissed him and sighed. “Permission to sleep with you officially. Best surprise ever.”

“I thought so.” Athos nuzzled under his ear. “Aramis asked me this morning if I’ve started taking anti-depressants. Seems I’ve been caught smiling suspiciously.”

“Uh oh. They’re going to work it out, you know.”

“Oh well. How was the flying?”

“Fun. Missed you though.”

“For all of five hours?”

“Yeah, but all those horrible lonely days and nights before that.” Athos poked him in the ribs. “I’m serious.”

“You’re ridiculous. Come on, we’ve been waiting on lunch for you and Anne to get back, and I imagine you’re caffeine deficient.”

“You imagine correctly.”

Serge had already been working hard to produce food fit for the de Bourbons, so lunch was a lavish but relaxed affair. Madame and Monsieur joined them, as did most of the other staff, around a huge communal dining table. “It’s just us until three days after New Year’s Eve,” Monsieur announced. “My sisters and Anne’s brother and their families will join us tomorrow. Won’t that be nice?”

“Very cosy,” Treville said. Constance blushed. D’Artagnan wondered how much time she would be spending in her shared room with Anne, and how much traipsing down the corridor to Treville’s solitary room.

Monsieur, Aramis and Athos had been skiing in the morning, as had Treville and Constance. Anne declared she wanted her chance before it grew dark, and dragged Athos, Luc, and d’Artagnan out onto the piste for two hours. There had been good snowfall, and though it was still snowing, the runs were great. Only the growing loss of light forced them all back to the chalet by four. “Porthos doesn’t ski?” d’Artagnan said to Athos as they dumped their skis.

“He claims we’re all adrenaline junkies and that someone has to be there to sort us out when we suffer compound fractures to various limbs. He prefers the pool.”

“He might have a point, you know.”

“He enters MMA fights for fun so I think we’re not the only adrenaline addicts around the place. I need a shower.”

Sadly, that wasn’t a coded invitation for d’Artagnan to join Athos in the bathroom. Athos wanted to take things slow. Sleeping together, kissing, cuddling was as far as he wanted to go right now, which d’Artagnan accepted. But it was still driving him mad because Athos was fucking _hot_. From the way he tasted, to the half-lidded looks he sent d’Artagnan from time to time, to the way he said d’Artagnan’s name, breathily and desperately in that amazing voice of his, everything about him turned d’Artagnan into a puddle of unrequited lust. If d’Artagnan told Athos how much he _needed_ to have sex with him, Athos would agree to it, but only out of guilt over past misdeeds. D’Artagnan didn’t want that. So he waited, and spent a lot of time half-hard around the man. Athos was half-hard too, but that didn’t equal ‘must fuck now’. D’Artagnan could wait. Blue balls were a myth.

But he wanted Athos so badly.

At least Athos never objected to being dragged to bed and hugged within an inch of his life, or snogged until both of them were beard burned and gasping for air. D’Artagnan had never had a relationship like this before, but then Athos was nothing like any bloke he’d ever worked with either. It would be nice if he came with instructions.

Athos emerged damp-haired and in clean underwear. “I was thinking of having a nap before dinner.”

“Great idea.”

Athos climbed into bed. D’Artagnan stripped and got in beside him. “You’re not going to shower?”

“Why, do I stink?”

Athos tangled his fingers in d’Artagnan’s hair and drew him close so he could breathe in deep at his throat. “No,” he whispered. D’Artagnan rolled on top of him, and Athos moved his magic hands down to d’Artagnan’s butt rubbing and stroking. D’Artagnan kissed along his jaw, rubbing his chin on Athos’s beard. “Are you sure you don’t want to share with Treville?”

“Well, he is a total DILF, but then so are you, so no.”

“DILF?”

“Daddy I’d like to—”

Athos put his hand over d’Artagnan’s mouth. “The ‘D’ word is banned or you’re sleeping with Luc.”

D’Artagnan licked his palm and grinned. “Okay. But he totally is.”

“I don’t know whether to be flattered or not by the comparison. You should take the chance to relax before the guests start arriving, by the way. I expect it to be full-on this year.”

“Yeah, so Anne tells me. She says you’ll be in a bad mood.”

Athos huffed next to d’Artagnan’s ear. “She should talk.”

“And she doesn’t have me to sweeten you up again.”

“You? You're the main cause of aggravation in my life.”

“Of course I am. I thought you wanted to sleep.”

“I do. Shut up.”

“Yes, daddy,” d’Artagnan whispered against his neck.

Athos gently slapped his arse. “Shut up, kid.”

********************

“So who’s arriving today?” Aramis asked. He and Porthos were on the first shift and thus had to deal with the guests arriving this morning in time for the New Year dinner that evening.

Porthos consulted his iPad. “Monsieur’s two sisters and their families—so that’s Christine and Victor Savoy, their kids Louis Amadeus, Louisa Christine, and Francis, and Henrietta and Charles York with their kids, Charlie and Mary. Oh great, all the children are under ten.”

“I think I prefer that age group, but I know you don’t agree. Who else?”

“Madame’s brother, Philip Navarre and his wife, Margaret, and their two children, Balthasar and Maria. Oh and the Savoys are bringing Louisa de Mantua and her boyfriend Francesco Santos.”

“Have those last two been checked out? I’ve never heard of them.”

“Dunno, but Treville’s given the go ahead. They’re family—Louisa is the daughter of Monsieur’s late aunt Eleanor’s husband and his second wife.”

“Not exactly close relatives, are they?”

Porthos shrugged. “Monsieur’s business, not mine.”

“Fair enough. We’ll be up to our necks in Louises and Louisas. Louis’s sisters must have really liked their brother.”

“Or their great-grandfather. Louise Christine is called ‘Lou-Lou’, apparently. Poor kid.”

Aramis tended to agree.

The Savoys and guests arrived first. The Savoy children were six, four and one, while the ‘cousin’ was an attractive young lady in her twenties. Her boyfriend was a handsome lad, and obviously devoted to her. Nice manners, which was more than Aramis could say about Victor Savoy who had been an arrogant sod the first time he’d met the man, and hadn’t improved over the years.

Fortunately Monsieur’s other in-laws were much more pleasant, and Monsieur and Madame loved all their nieces and nephews to bits. One of the living rooms had been set aside as a play area, and Constance put in charge of organising activities with Madame’s help. Aramis, as the resident medic, had chosen not to volunteer his skills with children. Porthos bolted any time anyone thought about asking him to mind a child, though he did consent to act as lifeguard for the pool along with Paul, d’Artagnan having escaped on the grounds he could teach the kids to ski. Aramis could do that too but hadn’t been quick enough to offer, damn that boy.

The chalet was still covered in Christmas decorations, and Monsieur had hired pyrotechnicians to give them all a show at midnight, but other than that, New Year’s Eve was simply an excuse for a huge, late dinner, sitting around drinking and talking until midnight was rung in. The adults did their best to exhaust their children in hopes of having them all in bed by ten, and amazingly, this worked. The team, having worked their collective butts off helping achieve this happy situation, were all more than glad to join everyone else for the grownup dinner. Athos and Porthos had access to the security camera footage on their tablets and checked it periodically, but there was little reason to think anyone was in danger up here on this night.

Madame did not drink, of course and ate little, but seemed well enough and happy. Aramis had been to see her during the day in his capacity as a trained nurse, and she confessed to discomfort and the occasional Braxton Hick contraction. He advised her to get as much rest as she could, and he and Milady would keep an eye on her. If they had to, she could be airlifted to Geneva in twenty minutes, so there was no need to panic even if she went into labour. The chalet had a very well equipped sick bay which could handle everything up to and including amputation. Outside of a hospital, she couldn’t be safer.

Just before midnight, they all went outside to the rear of the chalet. Monsieur had set up a rather garish large electronic clock, and the wait staff served champagne to everyone stamping their feet in the snow. Porthos sidled up to Aramis and nudged him with his hip. “Looking forward to the New Year?”

“Of course, since I’ll be with you. This one hasn’t been so awful.”

“No. Reckon Athos will say that?” Their leader was standing next to Milady, arm around her waist. D’Artagnan had his arm around her shoulders.

“Maybe, maybe not. He’s in a better place now than he was this time last year.”

“God yeah. And next year, there’ll be a baby de Bourbon to look after.”

“We know one thing—it’ll be a looker.”

Porthos raised an eyebrow. “You say that like you had a hand in it.”

“Jesus, Porthos. Not even as a joke.”

Porthos pulled him in for a kiss. “Sorry. Hey, look over there.” Treville and Constance were in close—very close—conversation. She was looking up at him with sparkling eyes, and his expression was as fond as Aramis had ever seen it before. “He’s gone on her so hard.”

“It’s mutual. They’re very sweet to each other.”

“So are Athos and Anne, have you noticed? You reckon there’s a chance there after all?”

“So hard to tell with them. I’d say d’Artagnan and Anne are more likely, but maybe d’Artagnan doesn’t want to go that far with Athos’s ex.”

“He doesn’t seem to be too bothered though, does he?”

“No. Which is very much not Athos. Strange.”

Aramis’s thoughts were interrupted by Monsieur yelling, “Ten, nine, eight....”

The rest of them joined in the countdown, and as they cheered the arrival of midnight, the fireworks began. Aramis kissed Porthos long and deep, Porthos’s strong arms tight around him. “Happy New Year, my love. And many more with you.”

“Damn right.”


	2. Chapter 2

On the morning after New Year’s day, Athos’s radio squawked, waking him up. He flailed for it, knocking keys and phone to the floor. “Athos here.”

“Athos, it’s Anne. I’m taking Madame to Paris this morning. She’s unwell and Aramis thinks she needs to see her obstetrician.”

Athos sat bolt upright. “Is it serious?”

“No, just a precautionary measure. Is d’Artagnan available to come with us?”

D’Artagnan signalled that he was. “Yes, he is. What time?”

“ASAP, but he has time for breakfast if he’s quick. I’m just heading to the kitchen now.”

“We’ll be there. Is Aramis going too?”

“No, but Constance is. Also Louisa di Mantua and Francesco were talking about going to Paris as soon as anyone was headed that way, so they might be coming too if they can be ready. No need to panic.”

“Thanks, see you shortly.”

D’Artagnan had already headed to the bathroom. Athos got up and dressed, concerned despite Anne’s words. Madame was a good five weeks from her due date, but she was a first time mother and none of them wanted to risk her health for the sake of a bit of care.

D’Artagnan came out and frowned at him. “You look worried.”

“Just wondering if Aramis should go along too.”

“Anne’s a nurse, isn’t she?”

“Yes, I keep forgetting. Never mind me. I’ll be quick.”

D’Artagnan gave him a quick hug before they left the room. “We’ll get her back safely.”

“Better had.”

Down in the kitchen, Anne was eating a croissant from a plate piled high with them. Athos fetched more coffee for her and cups for himself and d’Artagnan, then stole one of the pastries. “Do you want Aramis to go with you?” he asked Anne. “I’d rather be safe than sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. I boned up on childbirth first aid when I found out she was expecting, and I’ve delivered babies. Besides, she’ll be in the air just over an hour, Athos. Even if she was in labour right now, she could be in Geneva within twenty minutes. She’s _not_ in labour,” she added, seeing Athos’s face. “It’s a precaution. Monsieur wanted to come but she told him to stay and look after their guests.”

“So long as you’re sure.”

“Athos, my first aid training is also up to date, and so is Constance’s,” d’Artagnan said. “We’ll be fine.”

“Okay, good.”

“Food, great!” Athos turned. Louisa di Mantua and her boyfriend had just come in. They looked ready for departure. “How long have we got, Anne?”

“I want to leave as soon as d’Artagnan’s had his coffee.”

D’Artagnan bolted his croissant. “Two minutes,” he said through a mouth full of food.

“There’s your answer,” Anne said. “Are you packed?”

“Bags ready and waiting,” Louisa said.

“Then I’ll go up and help Madame downstairs. Charles, can you load the bags?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll come with you,” Athos said to Anne. They went upstairs to the de Bourbon’s suite. Madame was dressed and on her feet, looking a little pale but not too unwell, though Aramis and Constance watched every move she made.

Monsieur was hovering too. “Are you sure about this, Anne? Maybe we should take you to Geneva.”

“Louis, darling, I’ll be fine. I want to see my own doctor.”

“Sir, we’re just being cautious,” Aramis said, with the patience of a man who’d said this ten times already to a worried father-to-be. “Anne?”

“We’re ready to go when you are.”

Madame took Aramis’s arm, Anne the other, with Constance, smiling brightly no doubt for Monsieur’s benefit, bringing two small suitcases behind them. The sun was only just up, but though snow had fallen overnight, the air was clear now. D’Artagnan had already put their two other guests in their seats, and he stowed the new luggage in the rear. Paul was coming too, to bring the helicopter back from Geneva. Madame and Constance climbed on board, and Anne and d’Artagnan climbed quickly into the cockpit.

“Radio when you arrive at Geneva and Paris,” Athos said to Anne, glancing at Monsieur.

“Of course,” she said, without the expected crack about being overprotective. With Anne and Madame, there was no such thing, Athos well knew.

He watched the helicopter take off, an uneasy feeling in his gut despite everyone’s reassurances. Aramis clapped a hand on his shoulder. “She really will be fine, and she’s in the best possible hands.”

“I know.”

Monsieur had already gone back inside, so they followed. Treville met them there. “Report?”

Aramis gave a quick summary, and their boss nodded. “Okay. So there’s nothing else we can do right now, so go back to your plans for today. If d’Artagnan’s not back this afternoon, I’ll be on call in his place, Athos.”

“Yes, of course.”

“So, go back to bed. You too, Aramis. Porthos can handle things for now.”

Athos went back to bed, but not to sleep. He lay there wide awake until his radio squawked again half an hour later. “Porthos here. Anne radioed. They just arrived in Geneva. Preparing for take off now. Paul’s already on his way back.”

“Thanks, Porthos.”

He dozed off, knowing he had an hour before the next alert. Once Madame was in Paris, he could relax properly.

********************

Anne took her time settling Madame comfortably in the cabin, time D’Artagnan didn’t begrudge her. When she came back to the cockpit to settle into the co-pilot’s seat, she said, “Everyone’s fine.”

“Then let’s get moving.”

Once they reached cruising altitude, Anne wanted to check on Madame again, but she was back in a few seconds. “Problem?” d’Artagnan asked.

“You could say that.” A man’s voice. Francesco, holding a gun to a furious Anne’s head. “Charles, turn off the transponder, satellite internet, and ACARS.”

D’Artagnan looked at Anne. “Do it,” she snapped. “Do whatever the bastard says. Louisa has a gun on Madame.”

His gut clenching, d’Artagnan spoke calmly. “I need to check the manual to find out how to do it.”

“Hurry up.”

He found the instructions and pulled the circuit breakers, switching off the three systems. “There’s no need to do this,” he said.

“Be quiet.” Francesco passed Anne a slip of paper. “Give him those co-ordinates, and take his mobile phone off him.

D’Artagnan handed over his phone, and took the paper. “Set a course for that location,” Francesco ordered, pocketing d’Artagnan’s phone. “Fly the most direct route. I’ll be checking via GPS so don’t fuck around.”

“I don’t know if we have enough fuel—”

“Your tanks are full, Charles, and yes, you do. I can fly this jet as easily as you can, so you’re dispensable, and so is she,” Francesco said, poking Anne with the pistol and making her snarl. “Do as I say, and no one will be hurt. This is about money, not killing people. Set the coordinates now, and turn on the autopilot.”

D’Artagnan did as he was told. “Good. You, sit,” Francesco said to Anne. “Hands where I can see them.”

Anne slid into the co-pilot’s chair. D’Artagnan glanced at her but there was nothing they could do about this right now without endangering everyone on board. Both of them had guns in their holsters under their jackets. Francesco might or might not have known that since the security team had gone out of their way to keep the weapons concealed at the chalet for the comfort of the guests.

Francesco leaned against the door, gun at the ready but not aimed at either of them. “So now all you have to do is sit back and let the plane take us to our destination.”

Either d’Artagnan or Anne could easily take this clown in normal circumstances. But a cockpit wasn’t normal, and a bullet into any of the avionics was a very bad idea. Their training for this kind of situation was focussed on keeping their protectees alive above all else, and taking down the kidnappers was only a secondary consideration. They would do nothing until Francesco forced their hand.

********************

Athos woke and checked his watch, before picking up the radio. “Athos here, Porthos, come in.”

“Here, Athos.”

“It’s been two hours. Has Anne checked in?”

“No. Treville radioed, but there’s been no response.”

 _Fuck_. Athos put his shoes on while talking on the radio. “Phones?”

“No one’s answering. They’re not showing up on radar either at either Geneva or Paris.”

Athos charged out of his room and headed for the comms room on the top floor. He found Treville on the phone, Porthos looking at a computer screen. “Any reports of crashes?”

“Not yet,” Porthos said.

“And Monsieur?”

“We haven’t told him.”

 _Shit_. _Anne. Charles. Madame. Constance_. Anyone of them would be an impossible loss. All four of them....

Treville got off the phone. “Nothing. Their transponder isn’t sending out a signal, nor is ACARS.”

“Crash or hijacking?”

“No idea, Athos. Weather is good, so there would be no need to divert, and even if Madame went into labour, Paris would be the best option. With no reports of a crashed aircraft, hijacking might be the logical assumption.”

“Porthos, could you wake up Aramis, get him down here?” Athos asked. “Jean, what do we know about the other two passengers? You did the clearance.”

“I did,” Treville said, frowning. “They were clean. The Savoys know them. Louis had never met them before, though.”

“Then we need to speak to the Savoys. What about Monsieur?”

“Savoys first. Porthos, stay here and when Aramis arrives, tell him to do the same. Are the Savoys in their room?”

Porthos checked their security monitoring. “Kitchen, with the children.”

“Okay. Athos, we need to be discreet. I’ll take Victor aside first.”

“Understood. Jesus,” he added in a whisper.

“Yes, he might be a good person to ask for help right now.”

********************

Aramis dressed at the speed of sound and went up to the comms room. “Where’s Athos?”

“Down in the kitchen,” Porthos said, pointing at the monitors. “Talking to the Savoys with Treville.”

“Audio?”

Victor Savoy was yelling at Athos and Treville who were trying to calm him down. Porthos turned on the audio. “—you insinuate such a thing?”

“Monsieur Savoy, we’re just trying to find out more about Louisa and Francesco. No one’s making any insinuations—”

Treville’s diplomacy had no impact. “Louisa is my wife’s cousin, Treville. You’re insulting both of us!”

Athos put himself between Savoy and Treville. “Calm _down_ ,” he said in his coldest voice. “You’re frightening your children.”

“I should go down there,” Aramis said to Porthos.

“He said to stay here.”

“I know but it’s getting out of hand. I’ll come straight back. Just keep an eye on things.”

Porthos made a face. “Okay.”

Aramis scrambled downstairs to the kitchen. The Navarre family had come into the kitchen too, and the situation was now even more confused. “Ah, Aramis,” Treville said as if he’d been expecting him. “Perhaps you could take the children outside to play in the snow?”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Savoy said, standing with his feet apart, hands on hips, ready for a fight.

“Victor, please calm down,” his wife said. “Jean, it’s me who knows Louisa.”

“Then could you come and speak with me privately, madame? Athos, Aramis, stay here.”

“What’s going on?” Phillip Navarre asked.

Athos glared at Victor Savoy as he answered. “Nothing, yet. We just had a couple of questions. Monsieur Navarre, could you please take your children into the dining room? I’ll arrange for breakfast to be served in there.”

Navarre, with more sense than his brother-in-law, did as he was asked. Aramis went in search of one of the housekeepers and asked for their help. When he returned, Savoy and their three children were still where he’d left them, glaring at Athos.

Aramis smiled warmly at Savoy. “Breakfast will be served in the dining room immediately, monsieur. Please take your children in there.”

“I’m waiting for my wife.”

Athos’s look should have turned the man to stone if there was any justice. “Your wife is fine. Please do as you have been asked, or I’ll have to ask Monsieur de Bourbon to authorise your removal from this chalet.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Try me.”

“Monsieur Savoy, please. Your children are distressed,” Aramis said, a gentle but firm arm on the man’s shoulder. “The chef has made some wonderful pastries just for them.”

Savoy scowled. “Very well. I expect Christine to join us within five minutes.”

“I’m sure,” Aramis said, without actually agreeing that she would. He ushered the man and the children into the dining room, then returned. “ _Madre de dios_ ,” he breathed when he returned to Athos. “Want me to go back to the comms room?”

“No, stay here. I’m going to find Treville.”

********************

Francesco had told d’Artagnan to turn off the radio when Porthos’s first call came over it. “How long are you going to keep us in the air?” D’Artagnan asked. “We have a pregnant woman on board, and she’s not well.”

“She’ll be fine. We’ll be landing in about three hours.”

So a total distance of about two thousand kilometres.... “Sweden? You’re going to land in the middle of nowhere in Sweden?”

“If your skills aren’t up to it, mine are.”

“Not the point,” Anne snapped. “Madame needs to be in a hospital right _now_.”

“If she was that sick, you wouldn’t have tried to fly to Paris,” Francesco said, smirking at her.

"That was three hours ago."

"Too bad."

Anne pursed her lips in anger. “I need to check on her.”

“Go ahead.” Francesco motioned her to the doorway.

D’Artagnan was surprised and relieved at the concession. Anne wouldn’t try anything, but at least a medically trained person would be allowed to attend their precious passenger. “So what are you going to do when we land?”

“We’ll contact the chalet and have a little chat with Louis, that’s all.”

“You want a ransom.”

Francesco winked. “Got it in one, sport.”

“Louisa is trying to rob her own cousin?”

“Please. Second cousin by _marriage_. He’s not blood.”

D’Artagnan sneered at the little prick. “You’re happy to hang around like a pair of leeches though, aren’t you?”

“Only long enough to rob him. Be fair.”

 _Smug bastard._ “Will we be able to take off again from the landing strip?”

“Unlikely, but you’re welcome to try. If Louis is reasonable, then you’ll be able to radio for help and everyone will be fine.”

“If anything happens to Madame, I will kill you,” d’Artagnan spat, meaning every word of it.

“I’m sure you will,” Francesco said airily. “That won’t be necessary. Why don’t you believe me?”

“You’re holding us hostage. You’ve proved you’re untrustworthy.”

“A minor detail, Charles. I suggest you relax.”

D’Artagnan couldn’t, though, thinking of their passengers and what his friends and their family would be going through back at the chalet. _Athos will be losing his mind_. But he knew that there would be no one—no team—more determined to find and rescue them than Treville’s.

One good thing was that their hijackers were greedy, not ideologically driven, so violence and death for the fun of it were unlikely. On the other hand, greedy people could be stupid, so Francesco’s assurances that their landing strip was safe, weren’t worth a damn thing. The hijackers were also banking on their hostages being a lot more loyal to each other than Louisa and Francesco were to each other, so taking down one or the other wouldn’t give any of them an edge strong enough to remove the survivor.

His brain hurt with the effort of trying to work out a plan, but he came up with nothing.

Anne had been gone nearly an hour. “I need to pee,” D’Artagnan said to Francesco.

“Hold on.” He called to the cabin. “Anne, back here. Your boy needs the bathroom.”

Anne came back in and sat down. “How is Madame?” D’Artagnan asked as he climbed out of his seat.

“Madame needs to be in a hospital. She’s in labour.” Anne’s expression was either a masterful act or she was worried as hell. Hard to tell with her though.

“Shit. You heard that?” D’Artagnan said to Francesco. “You could kill her or the baby.”

“Labour takes hours. I keep telling you, we won’t be around that long.”

“She’s not _due_ for five weeks,” Anne said. “The baby will be premature and will medical assistance immediately. I have no idea how long labour will take in this situation. It could take an hour as easily as twenty. Please, let her go.”

“Sorry. Charles, get a move on.”

D’Artagnan looked at Anne, who nodded, so he went through the doorway, restrained the urge to punch Francesco in the nuts on the way. Louisa was standing at the back, gun ready like her boyfriend’s. D’Artagnan ignored her completely as he knelt down by Madame. Constance was making an effort to hide how worried and frightened she was but it wasn’t working very well. “How are you doing, Madame?”

She was pale as snow, sweating. She grasped his wrist. “Please, Charles. We have to get off this plane. My baby....”

He smiled as kindly as he could. “We’ll handle this as quickly as we can, I promise. Is there anything else you need?”

“Can Anne come back?”

“In a couple of minutes, I promise. We’ll look after you, I swear.”

Her blues eyes bored into his. “I trust you,” she whispered. Constance bit her lip. D’Artagnan knew how she felt—trust was all very well, but he and Anne weren’t in control here.

“Just do what they say, try to relax, okay? I’ll send Anne back as soon as I use the bathroom.”

He went to Louisa. “You have to let her go. Please.”

“Sorry, no can do.” She waved the gun towards the toilet. “Hurry up.”

He used the loo and came back out. He patted Constance’s shoulder as he passed her, and she touched his hand, but said nothing. Back in the cockpit, he asked Anne to return to their passengers. “Madame is terrified,” he told Francesco. “Do you really want the death of a young mother and her baby on her conscience?”

Francesco appeared to give it some thought. “Tell you what we can do. I’ll start talking to your boss now, and by the time we land, it could be all over. Okay?”

Better than nothing. It bought them an hour anyway. “I’ll radio the chalet.”

“Don’t be clever about it Charles. I just want to speak to Louis.”

D’Artagnan picked up the headset and put it on, before turning on the radio. “De Bourbon chalet, this is Foxtrot Zebra X-ray Alpha Tango, over.”

“De Bourbon chalet here. Charles, are you all right, over?”

 _Athos_. “Everyone’s safe. I have Francesco Santos here, with Louisa. They have our flight under armed control. He wants to speak to Monsieur, over.”

“Give me a minute.” D’Artagnan heard Athos giving an order to someone. “Charles, can Francesco hear you, over?”

“Negative, over.”

“You still have your weapons, over?”

“Affirmative, over.”

“Let me in on it,” Francesco said, sitting in the co-pilot’s chair. He put on a headset. “This is Francesco. Where is Louis?”

“Coming,” Athos said. “Please give Anne de Bourbon’s status.”

“She’s going into labour,” d’Artagnan said before Francesco could answer.

“Shut up,” Francesco barked at him, pointing the gun at his face. “Let me handle this.”

D’Artagnan held up his hands to indicate surrender. “Okay.”

“Francesco, you need to let Anne de Bourbon go. Just have Charles land at the closest air field.”

“Sorry, can’t do that, Athos. Where’s Louis?”

“Wait.” Even across a thousand kilometres, d’Artagnan heard the cold fury in that single word.

A few seconds later, Monsieur came on the line. “Francesco, what have you done with Anne?”

“Nothing, and she’ll be fine so long as you pay fifty million euros into the bank account I’ll give you the details for.”

“Let me speak to her.”

“Sorry. But Charles can tell you how she is.”

“Sir, it’s d’Artagnan. Madame is under Milady and Constance’s care. Everyone is okay for now.”

“You said she was going into labour!”

“Yes, she is. But she’s doing all right with it for now.”

“Charles!”

“Sir, please keep calm.”

Francesco cut in. “Louis, shut up and listen. Did you hear what I said? Fifty million euros.”

“Give me the bank details...Athos, you write it down.”

D’Artagnan heard the mike at the other end being turned off, and he could imagine Athos was telling Louis what a bad idea it was to pay up. On the other hand, if he didn’t....

“Louis, if you’re contemplating saying no, I will land this plane in the middle of nowhere, shoot each of the four of them in the leg, and leave them to bleed to death.”

“No!”

Again the sound was cut off. D’Artagnan glared at Francesco. “You’re a fucking monster.”

“Oh, it won’t come to that. He’ll pay. It’s nothing to him.”

“You shoot anyone and you’ll die. I promise.”

“You’re so funny. Louis? Time’s running out. We have fifty minutes until we land. If I don’t see that money on my account in two hours, it’s bye bye wifey.”

D’Artagnan hoped Madame and Constance couldn’t hear all this. They probably could, sadly.

“I’m arranging it! Please don’t shoot my wife. Don’t hurt our baby. Tell me where you’re going to land so we can send a medical crew.”

“When the money goes through. This is the account information.” Francesco read from a note he pulled from his pocket. “Going silent now. I’ll call back in forty minutes.” He took the headset off. “Turn the radio off,” he said to d’Artagnan.

D’Artagnan obeyed. “We need the weather conditions at the landing site.”

“All in good time.”

“Come on, Francesco, what difference does it make now to you?”

“Just wait. And remember, I don’t need you to fly the plane, Charles.”

D’Artagnan gritted his teeth. _Greedy_ and _sociopathic. Great._

A scream came from the rear—Madame, in pain. “Please, Francesco,” d’Artagnan said. “We could land much sooner, get her to a hospital. You’ll have your money.”

“We’re nearly there. Stay calm.”

“You’d let her die? Kill an innocent woman for money?”

“If anyone’s killing her, it’s her husband. I said ‘shut up’.”

“Look, if you want to survive the landing, I need more information about the terrain and the weather. You might be a pilot but you’re not a miracle worker. What are we landing on, a proper airstrip?”

“No, a snowfield.”

D’Artagnan stared through the windscreen. “Jesus. I need that local weather, Francesco. This isn’t a trick.”

“Nope. You can wait. Not turning the internet back on until we’re closer.”

Twenty minutes later, Francesco told him to begin his descent. “I need Anne in here and everyone else strapped in,” d’Artagnan said.

“I’m not moving.”

“I don’t care about you or Louisa. Just make sure Madame and Constance are buckled up.”

Francesco yelled instructions to the back of the plane. Anne returned and sat down. “We’re landing in a snow field,” d’Artagnan told her.

She rolled her eyes. “Terrific.”

“How is she?”

“Holding on.” Her eyes told him that Madame was only just managing to do so. “Her water’s broken.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

They consulted the manual for the emergency landing instructions and Francesco allowed them to do what they needed to, barring turning on communications. “You can turn the radio on now,” he said, picking up the headset. “Foxtrot Zebra X-ray Alpha Tango for de Bourbon Chalet, Francesco speaking, over.”

He listened. “Turn on the internet connection,” he told d’Artagnan. “She’s fine. I will give you coordinates in a few minutes, once I have confirmation of the transfer.”

“Did you tell them about the brace position?” d’Artagnan asked Anne.

“Yes. Thank God Louis had installed airbags.”

They were descending through heavy cloud, with sixty kilometres an hour gusts buffeting the plane. “We’re not going to make that landing strip,” d’Artagnan said to Anne.

“We have to try.”

Louis suddenly picked up the headset again, and spoke into the mike. “Okay, money’s in. Handing the plane back over to your pilots. Pleasure doing business with you, Louis.” He tossed the headset back at Anne. “Remember, we still have a gun on your passengers.”

D’Artagnan quickly put his headset on. “This is d’Artagnan, over.”

“It’s Athos, Charles. Where are you landing, over?”

D’Artagnan gave him the coordinates he’d been given by Francesco. “I need local weather, ASAP. We have already strong winds here, over.”

“Hold on. How is Madame, over?”

“Water’s broken, over.”

Athos swore. “Give me a sec...okay, blizzard conditions at your landing site. You need to divert, over.”

“Where to, over?”

“There’s a landing at Järpen. You have enough fuel, over?”

“Yes, over.” D’Artagnan turned to Francesco. “We can’t land at those coordinates, the weather’s too bad. We’re diverting to Järpen.”

Francesco jabbed the gun at the back of his head. “No. You’re landing exactly where I said. Do it or I’ll blow your brains out.”

“We can’t! Are you mad? We can’t land in a—”

Francesco fired the pistol at D’Artagnan’s leg, and he swore viciously as pain exploded in his thigh.

“Charles!”

Anne turned to help him, but Francesco stopped her. “Do as I said, or the next one goes into his head.”

D’Artagnan clutched at his thigh. Anne put on her headset. “Chalet, this is Milady. D’Artagnan is injured, GSW. We have to land where originally advised, over.”

“Anne, how bad, over?”

“Bad enough. ETA on medical support?”

“Unknown. Weather’s too severe for the helicopter, over.”

“Understood, over and out.” She cut the mike. “I need a bandage for him,” she said to Francesco.

“When we land. Not before.”

“I‘m all right,” D’Artagnan gasped. “Can you handle this on your own?”

“Just have to, won’t I?” She pulled his harness down and helped him get it on. “Keep your hands clamped on the wound.”

He nodded, feeling nauseous from the shock of the injury. The bullet had gone right through, so he kept a tight grip on entry and exit wounds.

Anne harnessed herself in, then turned on the PA. “Everyone, this is going to be a rough landing. Please stow any loose items immediately, then buckle up and assume the brace position.”

The jet was rocking badly now with turbulence, bouncing up and down and side to side in sickening fashion, and Anne struggled to keep control. Francesco disappeared, presumably to buckle himself into a seat, but there was no point in trying to overcome him now.

Anne dropped the landing gear, brought them lower and slowed the speed right down. “Okay, going down. Brace, brace, brace,” she yelled, hauling back hard on the yoke.

A tremendous bang, a massive jerk forward, and they were on the ground. D’Artagnan blinked, hardly believing it had worked. Anne turned off the engine and leapt up immediately to head to the back of the plane. She was back in seconds. “Everyone’s okay.”

“Let’s get those people off the fucking aircraft and lock the door.”

D’Artagnan hauled himself to his feet, drawing his weapon. He staggered to the doorway behind Anne and pointed his gun at Francesco. Anne already had hers aimed at Louisa. “Out. Get out right now. Leave your weapons and our phones. Move!”

Startled, Francesco got to his feet. He dropped his gun, took D’Artagnan’s phone out of his pocket, and walked to the hatch when D’Artagnan used his gun to motion him to move. “You too,” Anne snapped at Louisa. “Drop the weapons and phones.”

Louisa obeyed, putting everything on the floor. “But our pick up—”

“I don’t care,” Anne said. “Move now or I’ll shoot you where you stand. Believe me, it would be my pleasure.”

Francesco opened the hatch. The winds and snow outside were horrendous, visibility zero, but D’Artagnan shoved him through. “Go!”

Anne grabbed Louisa and pushed her out into the snow after her boyfriend, then hauled the hatch shut and locked it. D’Artagnan collapsed onto the nearest seat.

“Charles, you’re bleeding!” Constance yelled.

“Charles, hang on,” Anne said. “Get the kit,” she told Constance as she went to Madame. “Hold on, darling. Just need to patch Charles up first and then we can see about you, okay?”

Madame smiled weakly. “Do what you need to, Anne. I’m okay.”

She really wasn’t, d’Artagnan could tell that easily, but there wasn’t anything to be done at this second for her. Constance brought the first aid kit over and Anne cut D’Artagnan’s trouser leg off. “How bad is the pain, from one to ten?”

“Five, maybe six,” D’Artagnan said, arching back against the pain. “Don’t think he hit the bone.”

“Small mercy.” Anne put field dressings over entry and exit wounds and wrapped a bandage tight around them. “Constance, some water for him, please. I’ll give you ibuprofen but I need to keep the morphine back, just in case.”

“I’m fine. Go to her. I need to radio the chalet.”

“Okay, but stay seated. I don’t need you passing out on me.”


	3. Chapter 3

Athos resisted yelling into the radio, but only just. It would do no good and only distract whoever was landing the plane. Beside him, Monsieur was a picture of agony, waiting for news. Aramis, Treville Porthos stood behind them, faces grim.

“De Bourbon chalet, this is Foxtrot Zebra X-ray Alpha Tango, d’Artagnan speaking. We’re all okay, over.”

Louis grinned, and Treville clapped his shoulder. Aramis patted Athos’s head. “Status of aircraft and passengers, over?”

“Aircraft in one piece, no fire. Hostiles evicted without their weapons. I have a gunshot wound in my leg which has been bandaged, bleeding under control. Madame is in labour. ETA on medical airlift, over?”

“Charles, we don’t know. Everywhere is snowed in. You still have weather, over?”

“We really do. You realise we only have battery power for thirty minutes? I don’t want to run the engine, condition unknown, over.”

“Understood. Conserve power. Turn off heating and lights. You have flares on board, so I’ll get you to position those later when the rescue helicopter can land. Turn the radio off for next three hours. Touch base then, over.”

“Understood, over and out.”

 _Bugger_. He limped back into the cabin. Constance and Anne were setting up the [JetBed ](http://jet-bed.com/how-jetbed-works.php)for Madame to lie on. “How are we doing?”

“Any word on airlift?” Anne asked.

“Not yet. We need to conserve the battery, which means it’s going to get very cold and dark in here. I’ll give you a couple of minutes before I turn it all off. Constance, better find the torches. Did anyone bring extra clothes?” They all had padded jackets and warm pants, but would that be enough? Especially for Madame?

“That pair might have done, but their stuff’s in the hold.” Which they could only access from outside the aircraft, and he was not letting anyone outside in these conditions, with the hijackers still out there. “We have blankets though.”

“Okay.”

D’Artagnan looked at his watch. Anne worked quickly to get the JetBed inflated. Constance handed him a torch. “How’s the leg?”

“Sore. You okay, hon?” He put his arm up and pulled her in for a quick hug, rubbing her back.

“I’m better now they’re gone. Thanks, Charles.” She pulled away and went back to Madame’s side.

Exactly two minutes later, Anne said, “Okay, you can cut the lights and heating.”

D’Artagnan returned to the cockpit and switched off those systems, as well as the satellite internet. The one thing they had to keep working was the radio and they needed power for that.

Back in the cabin, the only light now was from the windows, and the only sound was Madame’s harsh breathing. D’Artagnan sat where he wasn’t staring up between Madame’s legs. Anne turned to him. “Contractions are now every two minutes. She’s going to give birth here.”

“What can I do?”

“Hold the light when I tell you, stay out of the way otherwise. I might need assistance. Call the chalet again, ask them to have someone there we can speak to if I do.”

D’Artagnan called Athos and asked. “We can patch in Doctor Travert at Geneva. He’s standing by, over.”

“Thanks, over.

“Monsieur wishes you to give his wife his love, over.”

“Will do, over and out.”

********************

“There must be something we can do,” Monsieur wailed, pulling at his hair and looking about three seconds from rending his garments in distress.

“Sir, there really isn’t,” Aramis said, patting the man on the shoulder. “Maybe you should take a break.”

“My baby! Anne! I can’t!”

Aramis forbore from sighing or reminding Monsieur again that there was nothing anyone could do from here, and his worry wouldn’t make it any better. He looked at Athos, and realised that in his own silent way, his friend was as frantic as Monsieur. “Porthos, can you hold the fort for a few minutes?”

“Of course.” His lover looked up questioningly. Aramis glanced at Athos, then back at Porthos. Porthos nodded.

“Athos, come and have lunch. We can bring food back for the others.”

Athos resisted. “I need to be here.”

“No, you don’t,” Porthos said. “The boss will be back any minute now. Come and eat, that’s an order.”

Athos lifted an eyebrow at that, but let Aramis drag him out of the chair he’d been welded to for the last four hours or more. “I’m not hungry,” he murmured as they walked downstairs.

“Too bad. It’s going to be a long night and I can do without having two hysterical men to look out for.”

“I’m not hysterical.”

“Not _yet_. I hope Treville’s been able to contact the incoming guests.”

“I wish he could chuck out the ones we have. Bloody Savoys.”

“Not sure Christine could have known what her cousin was up to.”

“Cousin my backside. Step cousin by marriage if that.”

“It doesn’t matter now, does it?”

The kitchen was busy because, hijacking or not, there were still over twenty people in the house to feed and water. Aramis collected bread and servings of cassoulet for them both, and went back for hot chocolate. “Eat,” he insisted. “There’s nothing you can do. Anne will be fine.’

Athos stared up in apparent confusion. “Anne? Oh yes.”

“I assume you’re worried about her.”

“I’m worried about them all,” Athos said, poking at the bowl of cassoulet. “I wish Louis hadn’t paid that ransom.”

“Agreed, but what could he do?”

“Nothing. But once word gets out—”

“It won’t. The cops aren’t involved. You think that pair are going to telling the world about it? They’ll disappear and no one will find out.”

Athos grimaced at the food. “I hope that’s true. I had a bad feeling about this before they set out. I should have....”

“Stopped them?” Aramis asked. “How? Madame needed to go to hospital. As it happens, more urgently than even I realised.”

“We should go back—”

Aramis put a hand on Athos’s arm, making it clear from his grip that he would hold him in place if he had to. “No. Take a break. I’m insisting on that. Don’t make me call in Treville.”

Athos gave him an evil look. “I’m surprised you’re not jumping out of your skin about Madame.”

Aramis ignored the dig. “I’m worried, but I’m controlling myself. Why aren’t you?”

“Because Charles and Anne are in danger.”

“Charles?”

“D’Artagnan.”

“I know who he is. I wasn’t aware you thought of him so highly.”

Athos shoved his food away. “Don’t be ridiculous. He’s one of the team.”

“So is Anne. But she’s your ex-wife too.”

Athos stood and picked up his hot chocolate. “I’m going.”

Aramis didn’t try to stop him. Now he understood Athos’s distress somewhat better. No point in trying to argue with it.

********************

“Charles, I need that link now.”

Anne was still incredibly calm, even with Madame groaning and yelling, and Constance white as a sheet. D’Artagnan limped to the cockpit, put a headset on, and turned on the radio. “De Bourbon chalet, Foxtrot Zebra X-ray Alpha Tango calling.” He repeated this a couple of times before he got a reply.

“Aramis here, d’Artagnan, over.”

“We need Doctor Travert’s help. Birth in progress, over.”

While waiting for the patch, he took the other headset into the cabin and put it on Anne’s head. “Okay?”

“Yes. Okay, this is Anne de la Chapelle, doctor. Mother is five weeks before due date. Baby is head down.” She gave Madame’s pulse and respiration that Constance had taken for her.

D’Artagnan concentrated on keeping the torchlight steady. The temperature was dropping fast inside the plane, and he was worried that the plane itself might be buried. At this very moment though, getting this baby out of Madame safely for both of them was the most pressing concern.

Suddenly, the baby’s head was out. D’Artagnan stared in wonder at the gross, yet amazing sight. The baby was _real_ now. Anne continued to talk calmly to the doctor even as her hands were busy, with Constance fetching and carrying as needed from the well-supplied first aid kit. Not for the first time that day, d’Artagnan was incredibly grateful that Louis’s anxiety about safety and the impending birth meant the jet was almost embarrassingly well supplied in that respect.

The rest of the baby arrived surprisingly fast after the head, and Constance was there to wrap the child in a clean blouse from her overnight bag. Anne wiped the baby’s mouth and a few seconds later, the baby made a weak, mewling cry. Anne grinned with relief. “He’s beautiful,” she said, laying the baby on Madame’s stomach.

A little boy. D’Artagnan couldn’t stop grinning either, and Constance beamed. Anne continued to talk to the doctor but the worst was over. The doctor gave her some more instructions, and handed the call back to Aramis. “You can tell Monsieur he has a son, and mother and baby are fine, over,” d’Artagnan said.

“That’s wonderful news. Pass on our congratulations. How’s your leg, over?”

“Stable. Any word on the airlift? We’re getting cold here, over.”

“Sorry. They think it will lift by about midnight, if not sooner, over.

“That’s eight hours away, over.”

“I know. You have blankets, over?”

“Yeah, and coats. Main concern is the baby, over.”

“Body heat, d’Artagnan. Keep baby close to mum’s skin, keep mum close to Constance, and Constance close to you or Anne if you can, over.”

“Will do. Closing connection now to conserve power. I’ll check in, in three hours, over.”

“Understood, over and out.”

Anne had now cut the umbilical cord, and Madame was sitting up with her son tucked in close to her. In all the unholy mess, blood and used paper towels and sweat and other bodily fluids, she still managed to look serene and beautiful. “Well done, Madame,” d’Artagnan said, smiling at her.

“Not me. All of you. Thank you.”

Anne knelt beside her. “You’re welcome, darling. You did very well.”

“We will have to wait until midnight most likely before the air ambulance can fly,” D’Artagnan said. “Aramis says we need to keep mother and baby warm, skin to skin, which I figure you already know. Any ideas about that?”

“I can fit in behind her,” Constance said.

“And I can sit by her feet,” Anne said. “No room for you, Charles.”

“Awww,” he whined dramatically, making Madame smile. “It’s okay. You girls get comfortable and I’ll tuck you in.”

Anne made him wait until the placenta was delivered a few minutes later, then with it preserved separately for the doctors, the rest of the mess from the birth was wrapped up in a plastic sheet and stuffed at the back of the cabin. Anne made sure they had water and the few snacks on board close at hand. The baby was sleeping, breathing okay, though he needed to be in a hospital as soon as possible to be checked over. They packed blankets all around Madame, and then around themselves. D’Artagnan only had one for himself but he could deal. If nothing else, the cold would reduce the risk of bleeding out from his leg injury.

He set an alarm for three hours’ time, then tried to get comfortable. Outside the wind howled, and snow was coming down in drifts. It had to stop some time, surely.

********************

Athos stared at the radio’s microphone. Aramis had managed to persuade Monsieur to go back to his room and rest once he’d received the news of his son’s safe delivery. Even though Madame and the others weren’t out of danger, the most frightening risk had passed, and by comparison, everything else had seemed bearable.

To everyone but Athos, that was. Nothing in his rational mind could ease the sickening worry, the icy fear in his gut about d’Artagnan and Anne, over d’Artagnan with a fucking bullet hole in his leg. D’Artagnan had told Aramis it was stable, but Athos wouldn’t put it past the kid to lie to spare them the worry.

If Athos ever came across Louisa di Mantua or her fucking boyfriend, they would be dead. To lay hands on Madame, or Anne, or D’Artagnan just for money....

He put his forehead on the desk. He needed to calm down. It was going to be a long, long night.

********************

The alarm woke D’Artagnan. He fumbled to turn it off, then used the torch to light his way back to the cockpit. The cabin felt little warmer than freezing, but the three women were all sleeping. He hoped the baby was okay, but there wasn’t much he could do if he wasn’t. “De Bourbon Chalet, this is Foxtrot Zebra X-ray Alpha Tango.”

“I hear you, Charles, over.”

“Athos.” D’Artagnan smiled at hearing his voice. “Checking in as advised, over.”

“Good to hear from you. How is everyone, over?”

“Asleep. Cold. Weather report, over?”

“It’s clearing. Air ambulance is due to lift off in twenty minutes. ETA your position within the hour, over.”

“That’s great news. I’ll be glad to get out of this plane, over.”

“They’ll fly you to Östersund hospital and we’ll see about transferring you all back to Paris from there, over.”

“Is it warm in Östersund, over?”

“I think so, over.”

“That’s all that matters, over.”

Athos chuckled. “You could probably turn the heating back on, over.”

“Don’t want to risk losing the radio, over.”

“Fair enough. How’s the baby, over?”

“Okay, I think. I’ll go check, over.”

D’Artagnan walked back to the sleeping women, and peeked carefully at the newborn hidden under the blankets, against Madame’s skin. He had good colour and was breathing well. Madame woke briefly from the light of his torch but settled back to sleep.

“He’s sleeping, looks perfect. He’s lovely, over.”

“Good to hear. Just had confirmation. Air ambulance ETA your position in fifty minutes. Are you able to set the flares, over?”

“Not me personally, but Anne probably can. If we’re not buried in snow, that is, over.”

“Are you?” D’Artagnan heard sharp panic in Athos’s voice.

“No, don’t think so. Stop worrying. The worst is over, over.”

“I’ll relax when you’re back home, Charles. Over.”

“I better go wake them up. Talk later, over and out.”

He switched on a few of the cabin lights, and wondered about the heating. Maybe ten minutes would be okay, help everyone wake up comfortably. He took some more ibuprofen too. His leg had never actually stopped hurting, and moving around had set it screaming again. Still wearing the radio headset, he went back into the cabin. Anne was awake.

“Fifty minutes to pick up.”

“Thank fuck. How’s your leg?”

“Sore. Not bleeding out.”

She nodded, then carefully extracted herself from the end of the JetBed, stood, stretched, and went to check on Madame and the baby. Constance was blinking awake by that point, but she stayed where she was behind Madame’s back. “He’s pink and warm, doing well. Brave little fellow,” Anne said, looking more tender than d’Artagnan could ever have imagined her.

“Do you think Louisa and Francesco could still be outside? Their ride couldn’t have landed.”

“If they’re out there, they’re dead. But we should keep a lookout anyway. You look cold.”

“I am.”

“Sit down.” D’Artagnan did as she said, then she climbed in beside him. “Better?”

“Always nice to have a pretty lady on my lap.”

She hugged him tight. “You did well today. Sorry you got shot.”

“Could have been so much worse. And you did a fantastic job landing the plane.”

“I did, rather.” D’Artagnan grinned. Anne wasn’t one for false modesty. “Do they need us to light flares?”

“Yeah. I’ll turn the heating off again in a couple of minutes, leave the lights on.”

“I’ll turn it off now. If the helo’s late, we’ll need the battery.”

She got up to do that, then returned, wearing a headset again. She went back to Madame who was now awake, and gave her some water and chocolate to eat. She brought water and chocolate back for d’Artagnan. “You need this.”

He didn’t argue, twisting the bottle open and taking a big swallow. “Athos is worried as all hell.”

“Of course he is. Between you and me, he won’t know who to be frantic over more.”

He stared up at her. “What do you mean?”

“Oh please, Charles. You two aren’t exactly hard to read, at least not to me.”

“He doesn’t want people to know. Not sure why.”

“Because he’s ashamed of himself. Not for wanting you, but for what he did. And because I’m around too, and he still loves me.”

“Are you bothered?”

“No. Not as long as he’s willing to share sometimes.”

D’Artagnan chuckled. “Not fair saying that kind of stuff when I can’t do a damn thing about it.”

She bent and kissed him on the lips. “Rain check?”

“Oh yeah.” He pressed the call button on his headset. “De Bourbon Chalet, this is Foxtrot Zebra X-ray Alpha Tango.”

“Charles, Athos again, over.”

“How’s the ETA looking, over?”

“Still solid. Are you able to confirm you can exit the plane yet, over?”

“I’ll look, Athos, over,” Anne said.

“Thanks, Anne. By the way, thank you for not dying on me today, over.”

“You’re welcome, over.” She went to the door and used a torch through the window to shine a light on the snow outside. “I think we’re okay. I don’t want to open it until we’re ready to go, over.”

“Understood. Monsieur is arranging a charter flight to head to Östersund. He should be there by morning, over.”

“Madame will be ecstatic, over.”

“Good. Just hold on, over and out.”

Anne took off her headset, d’Artagnan left his on, then she climbed in beside him again, wrapping blankets around them both. Across the aisle Constance gave them thumbs up.

Thirty-eight minutes later, d’Artagnan heard, “De Bourbon Chalet calling Foxtrot Zebra X-ray Alpha Tango.”

“We’re here, Athos, over.”

“Charles, set the flares now if you can, over.”

“On it, over.”

Anne was already moving. D’Artagnan turned on the exterior lights and raised the lights in the cabin, then went back to Madame and Constance. “Time to go.”

Madame helped him take the little scrap of life she’d brought into the world. He was so tiny, so fragile, and d’Artagnan was filled with an overwhelming need to keep him safe. “How are you feeling, Madame?”

“Sore. Relieved. Very, very grateful.”

“Same here,” he said. “Monsieur is on his way to Östersund, so you’ll see him in a few hours.”

“Good.” She reached for his arm. “We owe you and Anne our lives, Charles.”

“It’s all Anne, really.”

She pointed to his leg. “No, both of you.”

The hatch opened and Anne came back in, followed by a red-suited paramedic. Still swathed in blankets, Madame and baby were helped from the plane, then Anne helped d’Artagnan to hobble outside into the bitter cold, where another paramedic assisted them in carrying d’Artagnan over to the helicopter.

No sign of their hijackers. _Good riddance._


	4. Chapter 4

The taxi dropped the three of them outside Östersund hospital at two am. Monsieur ran inside, Athos and Treville following more sedately, carrying the bags. Normally, Athos was sure, visitors were not allowed at this time of the night, but Louis de Bourbon wasn’t just any visitor, and so they were shown to the private room where Madame was sleeping. Athos and Treville waited outside while Monsieur was reunited with his wife. Anne came outside a couple of minutes later. Athos hugged her tight and whispered, “So glad you’re safe,” fiercely against her neck.

“Thanks, darling. Monsieur is going to sleep in the spare bed in there. He told me to go to the hotel, and that he doesn’t want us to stay here overnight. Boss?”

“I think that’s fine, Anne. How is junior?”

“Pretty good. He’ll have to stay a couple of days probably.” She rubbed her eyes. She looked wrecked, which was most unusual for Anne, but then she’d had a harder than normal day. “You have rooms at the hotel?”

“Yes, and clean clothes for you all. Where’s Constance?”

“With d’Artagnan, waiting for you. I told her to go to the hotel but....” She shrugged.

“Then let’s collect her and we’ll all head there. What time is Monsieur expecting us back here?”

“Not early. Madame forbade him from waking her or us.”

Treville laughed. “That’s our girl. Right, to d’Artagnan.”

D’Artagnan was on the surgical ward where again, Louis’s name and promises of good behaviour worked miracles. They crept in and found Constance sitting at d’Artagnan’s bedside, asleep. Anne put her arms on Constance’s shoulders. “Hey, sweetie. The cavalry are here.”

Constance stood and immediately fell into Treville’s arms. “Thank God,” she said. “I thought I’d never see you again.”

Athos and Anne pretended they hadn’t heard any of this. “I’m going to stay,” Athos said when Treville released Constance. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“There’s no need, Athos,” Constance said. “He’s going to be fine.”

“I’m staying,” he insisted politely. “Jean, do you want to let Monsieur know I’m in the building in case he needs someone?”

“If you insist. Come on, ladies. You have more than earned a good night’s sleep and some clean clothes.”

Constance gave Athos a quick hug. “It’s so good to see you.”

“You too, Constance. Get some rest.”

The three went out, leaving Athos and two small bags to wait with d’Artagnan until sunrise in seven hours’ time. He used the bathroom, pulled up a chair, and put his head down. Now he could sleep.

He woke to the feel of gentle fingers in his hair, and turned his head. D’Artagnan grinned at him, and Athos seized his hand. “Hey, you.”

“Hi. Why are you doing a Lassie imitation on my bed?”

“Lassie? Cheeky sod.” He sat up and cracked his back. “How’s the leg? Does it hurt?”

“Not much.” D’Artagnan pointed at the IV bag next to him. “I can leave in a day or two. Today, if absolutely necessary.”

“It’s not. Madame will be here a couple of days.” Athos stood and put his arms around him. D’Artagnan’s IV-free arm pulled him close. “I was worried sick.”

“I know. Me too. Anne is a hero. You should have seen her land the jet. I couldn’t even help. I was just trying not to bleed out. Then she delivered Madame’s baby. Louis needs to give her a pay rise. Or her own helicopter. Something.”

Athos grinned. “I’m sure he will.”

“How the hell did Louisa and Francesco get through our screening? If the boss bans anyone who hasn’t worked with us for at least six months from travelling with the de Bourbons, I’d be up for that.”

“I really don’t know. They’re both squeaky clean on paper, which suggests they were working with a third party. Treville is investigating that side of things right now. But we need to tighten up on security there, which means searching everyone we don’t know very well before they get on board a flight with us.”

“What happens the first time one of Monsieur’s guests blows their stack about it?”

“Treville’s problem,” Athos said, though he could have wished for more support from Monsieur over Victor Savoy. The family were still at the chalet despite them having literally brought criminals along with them.

“Did you see the baby? He’s so little!”

“Not yet.” Athos smiled at d’Artagnan’s excitement. “Now there’s a kid who’s going to be dining out on the story of how he was born, for the rest of his life.”

“If that’s the worst thing to happen to him, I’ll be happy. Can you help me up? I need the loo.”

Athos helped him out of the bed, and listened to him curse. “I thought you weren’t in much pain?”

“That was before I moved.” He put his arm around Athos’s neck and kissed him. “I thought I might not see you again. Not after Francesco forced us to land.”

“Me too.” Athos buried his nose in d’Artagnan’s hair. “One of the worst days of my life.”

“Sorry.”

Athos helped him manage the IV pole and get to the bathroom. “Do you want to change? I have clothes.”

“Later. Don’t know how I’ll shower yet.”

It was still early, only seven o’clock. Athos checked his phone. No messages, which was a relief. He sent one to Aramis to tell him that d’Artagnan was awake and okay, that everyone was fine.

The hospital and its occupants began to wake up. Breakfast was delivered, d’Artagnan’s pain levels checked and his IV disconnected. “I’m bored,” he declared.

“You’ve been in hospital less than twelve hours, Charles.”

“I know. Still bored.”

“Be quiet and eat your breakfast.”

“Don’t wanna,” he said with an exaggerated pout.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Athos said, unsure whether to kiss him or smack him. His mobile rang. “Anne, hello. Why are you awake?”

“Habit. I’m going to breakfast. Is Charles being a pain? Want a break?”

“Yes, and yes,” he said, grinning at d’Artagnan.

“Come to the hotel, I’ll meet you there with Treville and Constance. It’s a three minute walk down Prästgatan. Tell the boy to shut up and eat.”

How did she know these things? “Will do.” He rang off. “Anne wants me to join her for breakfast, and for you to eat up.”

“You’re leaving me?”

“Yes.” Athos kissed him. “But only for an hour or so. I need to speak to Treville, so.... Is there anything you need for me to get?”

“I’m good. Just want to leave, but I need the doctor for that.”

“Okay. I won’t be long.” He kissed d’Artagnan again and stroked his long hair off his face. “Okay?”

“Go. I’m not a child. But can you find out how the baby is?”

“Of course.”

Athos did not enjoy his walk to the hotel in the dark and biting wind but it was as short as Anne had said. She rose to meet him and kissed his cheek. “God, you’re freezing.”

“Yes, so feed me.”

Treville and Constance already had their food and coffee, so Anne and Athos grabbed theirs. “Why are you two ladies up when you earned a damn long sleep in?” Athos wanted to know.

“Habit, and Louis has already been texting Jean,” Constance said, mouth turned down. “He wants to move Madame and the baby back to Paris. Madame is telling him no way, but you know him.”

“I’ve suggested that he goes back with me to the chalet,” Treville said. “I’ll work on him some more this morning, as will Constance. The baby can only travel on a medical support flight and the poor little thing doesn’t need that, nor does Madame. They’re fine where they are until she and he are ready to go.”

“You and I will stay,” Anne said to Athos, “to support and protect Madame. D’Artagnan won’t be fit to work so he can stay or go as he chooses.”

Athos sighed. “I knew hoping for a couple of days’ rest for Madame was a pipedream.” He turned to Constance. “You probably don’t need to stay.”

“No, but if she’s only going to be a couple of days I will. If it’s longer, I’ll need to get back to Paris and find her more clothes and things for the baby. I’m really annoyed at Louis over this. Madame has only just escaped from a hijacking situation on a bloody plane and he wants to shove her back on one before her baby is ready, let alone her. He’s so selfish.”

“It’s his worst trait,” Treville agreed, patting Constance’s hand. “We can use that angle on him perhaps. Maybe you could pretend to be traumatised by the whole thing.”

“No pretence needed, Jean. It was terrifying.”

Anne made a moue of sympathy at her friend. “Neither of you should have to go back on a plane sooner than you’re ready to. If anyone has to go back to Paris, it’ll be me.”

“I’ll be all right. I think.”

“We can argue about that later, but Madame should not be forced to travel by Louis’s impatience. How’s d’Artagnan, Athos?”

“Bored already.”

Treville rolled his eyes. “Predictable. You better hang around to make sure he doesn’t start trouble.” His little grin gave him away.

“I’ll sit on him,” Athos promised.

“He’ll like that,” Constance said, smiling over her cup. “What?” she said at Athos's look of shock.

“She knows, Athos,” Anne said. “She and Madame heard us talking on the plane.”

“Knows what?” Treville said, looking between the three of them for clarification.

Athos wanted to crawl under the table. “It’s nobody’s business—”

“Athos and d’Artagnan have formed a...connection,” Constance said, looking at Treville. “Like we have.”

Treville’s eyebrows rose. “Really. That’s...unexpected.”

“And not something I want bandied about,” Athos said, scowling at them. “I’m still working things out. We're not sleeping together.”

“Why the hell not? The boy is gorgeous.”

“For heaven’s sake, Anne,” Athos muttered.

Treville cleared his throat. “Perhaps this is something Athos doesn’t want to talk about in front of you all. Me, at least. Athos, it’s your business until it affects the security provision, then it’s mine.”

“Understood.”

“But perhaps Constance and I should walk over to the hospital and start talking sense into Louis. Yes?”

“Yes,” Constance said, getting to her feet. “See you over there, Athos. Anne?”

“Yes, I’ll be there later. Good luck.”

They left Anne and Athos alone. “I don’t want to talk about it,” Athos said.

“Tough. Charles is nuts about you, you do realise.”

“He’s fond of me, as I am of him. We’re close. But we’re not having sex.”

“Then why is he sneaking in and out of your cabin at all hours?”

Athos frowned in irritation. “Are you watching me, Anne?”

She stared at the ceiling as if praying for patience. “What do we do for a living again? What’s the problem, me or him?”

“Both. Anne, I love you. I want.... I keep thinking about Aramis and Porthos. The way Aramis and Madame’s thing nearly split them apart, but Porthos forgave him. I could have done that with you. I would have, if Thomas...you know.”

“I know that, Athos,” she said, taking his hand. “But I don’t blame you for not—”

“I do! I want...to marry you again. If you don’t feel the same, I understand but if there’s any chance you still do...I can’t move on to d’Artagnan just because he’s new, when he makes me feel the way you did. You do.” Athos bent his head. “I’ve made two appalling mistakes in my life that I will always regret. One was not understanding what Thomas did, the other was divorcing you. Please...don’t make me walk away again.”

“Oh darling.” Her eyes shone with tears. “I do love you. I’ll always love you. I just don’t think marriage is really for me any more.”

“It doesn’t have to be marriage. Just...be with me.”

“Exclusively?”

“I’d...prefer...but it doesn’t have to—”

“Because d’Artagnan’s already agreed to share.”

Athos stopped, his brain suddenly gone blank with shock. “What?”

“We were talking on the plane, and I joked about you being willing to share, and he wasn’t at all put off.”

“That was a joke in a horrible situation, Anne. Not a serious proposal. I’m being serious.”

“I know, darling. But so am I. You can have us both. I can have you both, if you let me. I don’t love him like you do, but I’m very, very fond of him. I’m not cut out for monogamy, I’ve realised. I know you’re different, which is why being married to you again would be such a mistake.”

She squeezed his hand and he put his other one over the top of hers. “I can’t lose you twice. I feel so desperate, so hopeless when I think of it. When I’m with Charles, he makes me feel so happy, so at peace within myself, but then I remember how you made me feel the same, and I can’t be with him and not with you. I didn’t realise it until yesterday when I thought I might lose you both.”

“Sweetheart, listen to yourself. Then listen to what I’m saying. You can have us _both_. Ask him.”

“Can...could it work? I’ve never...I don’t know if I’d like a threesome.”

“It doesn’t have to be like that. You can be with one or the other. Or Charles and I can be with each other occasionally. He’s a generous man, and so are you normally. Just think about it, Athos. But stop overthinking it, and for God’s sake, hurry up and have sex with that pretty man. He’s wonderful in bed.”

Athos flushed. “I can’t believe we are having this conversation.”

“That’s your upbringing, darling. Mummy and Daddy brought you up to be honest and brave and dutiful and provident, but forgot to teach you how to enjoy life for its own sake. I learned that lesson for myself. Now you need to learn it too.”

He bowed his head, tears dripping onto the white tablecloth. She stroked his hair and held his hand, not saying anything. There was no need.

********************

D’Artagnan was unimpressed with everything about this day so far—the fact that Athos hadn’t returned, the lousy coffee served with the weird Swedish version of breakfast, and the pain in his leg. Also with the doctor who wouldn’t let him leave today for no good reason except that he wanted to see how d’Artagnan was getting on the next day. And he didn’t have his iPad, and his phone was out of charge.

Athos not being back was the worst though. He had no one to complain to.

“Charles!”

He smiled at the owner of the voice. “Constance, how are you doing? Why are you here so early?”

“I’m fine and I’m here to see you. Well, see Madame and you. How’s the leg?”

“Ouchy. Sit up here with me.” She climbed onto the bed beside him and he hugged her. “Why are you all up so early?”

“I didn’t do much yesterday except sit on my backside and sleep, if you disregard the early part of the day and the baby being born.”

“Yeah, _apart_ from that. How is he?”

“Doing well. He’s in a humidicrib when Madame isn’t feeding him or holding him, but that’s just a precaution. He’ll be ready to go in a couple of days provided he’s feeding well. Oh and they’re going to call him Anton Louis. They could have called him ‘Louis Anne’ because ‘Anne’ is a male name too, but Madame thought it would get him teased too much.”

D’Artagnan nodded. “Anton’s nice. And they can call him ‘An’ for short.”

“Yes, they can. Jean has talked Monsieur into letting Madame stay at least two more days. He wanted us all to leave this morning.”

“Selfish bastard,” d’Artagnan said, keeping his voice low. “You went through so much yesterday. And, ‘Jean’?”

She poked him. “Be quiet, you. How come you never talked to me about you and Athos? Been keeping that one quiet, haven’t you.”

“For a _reason,_ Constance. Man’s not sure what he wants to do about us, if anything. He’s sleeping with me...and I mean sleep as in just sleep...and that’s it. No sex.”

“Now that’s a shame. Anne’s talking to him about it now.”

For a horrifying few seconds, d’Artagnan thought she mean Madame, but then he realised she meant Athos’s ex-wife, and groaned. “He’s going to kill me.”

“No, he won’t. It’ll be fine. She’s happy for him.”

“Yeah but....” He gave up. “You staying here?”

“In the hotel, not your bed, yes, until Madame is released. Jean and Monsieur are flying back to the chalet later. Monsieur will have to buy another Learjet, or at least hire one. Salvage on the old one could take a while.”

“You might remind _Jean_ ,” d’Artagnan said, emphasising the name until she poked him, “that there could be two bodies near the plane.”

“Oh, God.” She bit her lip. “I forgot. Not that they didn’t deserve it, the bastards. Louisa was vile to us. She didn’t care at all about Madame and kept pointing that gun at me every time I moved. Like I was going to fight her for it when Madame was ill.”

“I’m not sorry they’re dead, if they are. But I’d like to know who’s behind them, or who was working with them. Someone was supposed to pick them up.”

“Yeah. It’s horrible, to think your own family could do that to you. I know they _do,_ but seeing it like that....” She shuddered. “I should go back to Madame though. I’ll be around most of the day, so you can message me.”

“My phone’s out of charge. Do you have a charger?”

“Jean does. Give it here and I’ll sort out for you.” She climbed out of the bed again, and hugged him. “I’ll come back in a couple of hours, okay?”

“With coffee? Proper coffee? The stuff here is shit.”

“Coffee I can get, fusspot.” She kissed his cheek. “Now behave.”

“I always behave.”

“Not what I heard. See you soon.”

Athos didn’t come back. Treville dropped in, and so did Monsieur, promising d’Artagnan a payrise and shares in the company, which was generous of him. “I honestly didn’t do much, sir. Most of the time the plane was on autopilot, and we couldn’t do anything about the hijackers until we landed. Milady can take all the credit for that.”

Monsieur wagged his finger at him. “Not what she said, Charles, and my wife is also singing your praises. You’ll just have to indulge us, sorry.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Right, then. We’ll see you back in Paris. If you need anything at all, ask Constance for it. Jean, we’re leaving.” He walked out.

Treville shook his head at Monsieur’s abruptness. “We’ll be in touch, d’Artagnan. Well done though.”

“Thank you, sir.”

D’Artagnan waited another hour, and then started to fume. He couldn’t even text Athos because Constance had his phone. She returned in just over two hours as she promised and handed the phone back. “Why have you got a face like a slapped arse?”

“Where’s Athos?”

“Busy? He’s not here to look after you.”

“But he said he was coming back in an hour over three hours ago.”

“Maybe he’s doing stuff for Monsieur, or Jean.” She stroked his cheek. “Don’t frown, Charles. You look like an otter when you do that.”

“Oh, thanks.”

“I do have an iPad for you though. Monsieur asked me to go out and buy one for you, me and Madame.” She pulled one out for him. “All ready to go.”

D’Artagnan knew Louis was rich beyond the bounds of imagination but it was that kind of gesture which reminded him just how _stupidly_ rich he was. “That was nice of him.”

“I think he was feeling a bit guilty after we had a go at him this morning for being a selfish git. Anyway, that’ll keep you busy. I’ve put a SIM card in it and you just need this information to connect.” She handed over a card.

“I love you, Constance.”

She grinned. “Sounds like you’ve got more than enough people to love you back. I better get back to Madame. Shit, I forgot your coffee.”

D’Artagnan waved the iPad at her. “This makes up for it.”

“Still, I’ll see what I can do. See you!”

Lunch arrived. It was a bit better than breakfast, so between that and the iPad and the phone, d’Artagnan’s mood improved very slightly. He sent a text to Athos but received no reply. He found it hard to believe talking to Anne would have turned Athos off their relationship, but what if Athos decided that it was Anne he really wanted after all? He’d been honest about the fact he still loved her, and after yesterday, nearly losing her and everything, maybe that had been the switch?

The more he thought about it, the more likely that seemed, and the more morose he grew. Constance came back with the promised coffee at three o’clock. “Oy, the iPad was supposed to cheer you up, not depress you.”

“He’s not back.”

She handed him the cup of coffee. “Anne came over an hour ago. She said Athos is having a nap. He’s knackered.”

“He could have told me.”

“Maybe he’s got a lot on his mind, d’Artagnan! God, do you have to be so demanding? The man spent all day yesterday worried about us and then slept all night at your bedside. What more do you want, blood?”

He stared at her, hurt and embarrassed. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

She wrapped her arms around him and kissed his hair. “No, I am. Of course you want to see him. I’m cranky because Monsieur was a real twat until he left, and I’m taking it out on you.”

“No, you’re right to tell me off. Thanks for the coffee.” He made the effort to smile. “How is Madame? I bet she’s tired.”

“Oh yes. And sore. But it could have been so much worse, and she has a new son. She’s glowing with happiness. Even with Monsieur being a real arse.” She covered her mouth. “I better not get into the habit of saying things like that.”

“I don’t think it’s news to Madame what he’s like. But Treville and Monsieur won’t like you saying it even if it’s true.”

“No. Are you in a lot of pain.”

“Not much,” he lied. “I can leave tomorrow. It’s okay for me to stay in the hotel, right?”

“Yes, of course. Sharing with Athos. Or you can have your own room. Whatever you like, okay?”

“Thanks, Constance. I’m okay. Just grumpy and bored.”

“I’m sure you are.” She hugged him again. “It’ll be all right,” she said against his neck. “Athos isn’t flighty. He just gets his head up his backside sometimes.”

“The last time he did that, he beat me six ways to Sunday.”

“He’s not going to do that again. He’s very fond of you, d’Artagnan. More than fond.”

“Yeah, but he _adores_ Anne.”

“So? We can love more than one person. Whether you can be _in_ love with more than one, I don’t know, but that’s not important. Being in love isn’t enough. You have to have the rest of it too. Respect, affection, trust, friendship. He has that with you.”

“He has that with _Aramis_ , Constance.”

She shook her head. “If you’re determined to be stupid about this, I can’t help you. Do you need me to pop back again?”

“I’m fine. What’s Anne doing?”

“Talking to Madame and cooing over the baby. She’s so sweet.”

“Not a word I’d associate with Milady somehow.”

“Me either, but there you go. She’s smitten with Anton already. That baby is going to be spoiled to death.”

“I think we knew that already. I’m okay. I’ll see you tomorrow? When I get released, yeah?”

“Before that, I hope. Call me. Oh!” She rummaged in her handbag. ‘Ta da! Charger for the phone and iPad.”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“Yes, I know.” Constance was so pretty when she smiled. “So call me. Text me. Anything.”

“I will. Thanks.”

He didn’t get a reply to his message to Athos until he’d been served supper. It said _Dealing with something, sorry. See you in the morning, I promise. XXX_

He tossed the phone away from him. _Fuck you, Athos._

He was poking at Solitaire on the iPad, unable to be arsed to find something more absorbing, when Anne came in. “Constance said you were pitiful. I was hoping you’d be past it by now.” She came over, kissed him on the lips, then held him close. “Let me guess. Athos is hiding.”

“Yeah, the sod.”

“Welcome to the joys of loving my ex, darling,” she murmured against his ear. She stepped back. “He does this, Charles. He either explodes, which as you’ve seen, can be a disaster, or he turns his anger and hurt and confusion inwards until he’s such a ball of misery he can’t bear himself, and then he drinks until he passes out. That’s much more common than him exploding.”

“Why is he angry with me?”

She stroked his hair off his face. “He’s not angry with anyone, except maybe himself. But he’s hurt and confused and trying to make sense of his emotions. He’s _dreadful_ at that. I spent all morning with him, and left him in his room to sleep, he was so exhausted by it all. Has he contacted you?” D’Artagnan showed her Athos’s last message. “See, that’s a positive sign. He’s communicating.”

“He hasn’t called me.”

“Of course not. Athos is an introvert, and on top of that his parents have taught him that emotional openness is a bad thing. You’d think they were English, honestly. He’s let you get much closer than he would have done two years ago, even before the whole Thomas mess. So don’t give up on him, Charles.”

“But what is he so confused about?”

She made a ‘you and me’ gesture. “He loves me desperately. He loves you desperately, though he won’t call it that. He offered to marry me again.”

“ _What_?”

“Shhh, I turned him down. I’m not making the same mistake twice. I love Athos to bits, but marrying anyone is wrong for me. But if he can’t marry me, he doesn’t know how to hold onto me, and it’s upsetting him. It’s the only way he knows how to do it.”

“I don’t—”

She put a finger on his lips. “I’ve offered him an alternative. He has us both in unmarried bliss.”

D’Artagnan exhaled. “Oh, Jesus, Anne. No wonder he’s upset.”

“Yes. But he’ll get over it.” She cupped his cheek. “He thinks it’s infidelity to one or the other of us. I’ve explained my feelings, that my intuition is that you wouldn’t mind—”

“I _wouldn’t_.”

“Well then.” She smiled. “He has to decide.”

“What if...he decides he only wants you?” A pain settled in his chest, and he found it hard to breathe. "I love him too.”

“Shhh.” She held him again. “If he wants me, he has to share me. Once he gets his head around that, I think he’ll be okay.”

“I can’t...I mean, I don’t want to give him up.”

“Have faith, Charles. I wouldn’t have spoken to him about this if the result was to break you two up. You put your trust in me yesterday. Trust me one more time.”

“I want to. He could talk to me—”

“He really can’t. You’ll be so good for him, and you’ve helped him already, but he’s not there yet. I warn you, there will be more of this. He was raised to be a hero, the brave big brother, the one who served his country in the army, like his father did. You met his father?”

“Yes.”

“Athos is a better man than his dad, but he’s very like him. His mother uses her husband as a shield, so she can be emotionally selfish and indulgent. You can’t ever behave that towards him, or you’ll push him further into his shell. He needs help to stay outside in the sunlight. He needs to learn he’ll be safe, that he can be protected, not just the protector. I failed at that. I let him down, taught him his heart, his emotions weren’t safe with me. He needs to trust you, trust his heart with you. Only you can teach him that. It’s more than love, Charles. Love isn’t enough for him.”

He felt his tears soaking her blouse but he couldn’t make them stop. “I love him so damn much,” he whispered. “I didn’t want to die yesterday because I didn’t want to never see him again.” He wiped his nose and sniffled. “It’s ridiculous. We’re not even fucking. He lets me sleep with him and it’s wonderful. But he doesn’t want sex.”

“Oh he does, Charles. But that he sleeps with you? Is how he’s learning how to trust you.” She rubbed his back. “It’s a good thing. You can live without the sex, can’t you?”

“Of course I can. But I need to be able to hold him. Know he’s mine and that he feels the same.”

She pulled back so she could look into his eyes. “He does. Believe me. He absolutely does. Otherwise he wouldn't be tying himself up in knots. So can you be patient?”

“I guess.” He wiped his eyes again. “You won’t leave him again, will you?”

“He and I are tied together in ways I can’t begin to understand. We could live on the opposite ends of the earth and we would belong to each other. Are you asking if I would be faithful to him? I won’t be, I know that. But our hearts are inscribed with each other’s names. That’s all I can say.”

“How the hell do I compete with that?”

“You make your own connections, Charles. You already do. You have a talent for it. You have insinuated yourself more thoroughly into the affections of our team, more quickly than anyone I’ve ever seen. And all, as far as I can tell, without doing anything but being you. You’re a natural.” She grinned as she said it. “You look so worried, sweetheart. It’ll be all right.”

“Will you see him tonight?”

“Probably.”

“Can you tell him...that I’ll wait? For as long as he needs.”

“Are you sure you mean it? Don’t say it unless you do, Charles.”

“I do. He’s worth waiting for.”

She kissed him on the lips. “You’re a good man. I might love you a little bit myself.”

He smiled. “Me too.”

She patted his cheek gently. “Now, stop moping. Get some sleep. You want to be in good shape tomorrow so they discharge you. And ask for more pain relief. You’re wincing and whatever they’re giving you, isn’t enough. You can’t fly until that hole in your leg heals up completely, so take the opiates if they’re offering them, and don’t walk on that leg without a crutch unless you want a permanently weak leg.”

“Yes, nurse.”

“Will you be all right?”

“Now I will. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, though I’m doing it for Athos as much as you. I owe him.” She kissed his cheek. “See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

He watched her go, his heart much lighter than when she walked in. “Athos, you idiot,” he murmured. He almost sent a text to that effect, but thought it better to just let his precious idiot do what he had to do, and come back to him.

_Come back to me soon._

********************

Athos opened his hotel room door, and found Anne there. “How are you, darling?”

“Tired. Feeling stupid.”

She took him into her arms. “Not stupid. I have a message for you from Charles.”

He stiffened. “Charles?”

“Yes, you remember. That adorable man we both fancy?”

“Anne, don’t.” He pulled away. “What did he say?”

“He said, ‘I’ll wait for Athos as long as he needs me to’.”

Athos exhaled. “You told him what we talked about.”

“Of course.” She sat on the bed. “So stop fretting. Have you had supper?”

“No. Not hungry.” He looked at the clock. Nine-thirty. “I might just go back to bed.”

“Want me to stay?”

 _Yes._ “No, I’m okay. How is he?”

“Mopey. But he’ll get over it.” She held out her hand. He took it and sat next to her, putting his head on her shoulder. She stroked his hair. “Athos, if you and I never make love again because you’re with Charles, that’s okay. You won’t lose me over that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. I’ll be sad because both of you are hot, but I won’t die of frustration. And if you do sleep with me with his consent, it doesn’t mean you don’t love him. Do you understand?”

“I think so. I don’t know if I could handle it. Or if he slept with you.”

“Then don’t. It’s all good, darling. Be there when I need you, be my friend. Be my rock if I need one. That’s harder to find than a good shag.”

He smiled. “With your charms, Anne, I imagine you just have to crook your finger and men come out of the woodwork for you.”

“Not the same thing as a good shag.” She put her arm around him. “I’ll sleep with you—and I mean sleep—whenever you want. I hope you’ll do the same for me if I need it. And same goes for Charles. Okay?”

“Yes.” He relaxed. He could do that easily.

“Frankly a good cuddle is worth more to me sometimes than an orgasm, which I can get better from my vibrator anyway.”

“Anne!”

“Don’t be a prude, Athos.” She squeezed his shoulders and stood. “Now, I’m going to bed. Call me if you change your mind.”

“I will. Goodnight, love.”

She blew him a kiss and left. The squirrelly thoughts in his head, the confused feelings, had eased, and the exhaustion he’d felt earlier, had slipped away like a discarded coat, and now he knew what he needed.

He needed d’Artagnan.

He walked up Prästgatan to the hospital. Visiting hours were long over, but he pleaded with the nurse in charge that he hadn’t been able to see his boyfriend all day and just had to see him. He promised faithfully to behave, dropped Louis de Bourbon’s name shamelessly, and was allowed into d’Artagnan’s ward. D’Artagnan was still awake, or at least, still held an iPad in his hand though he was staring listlessly at the window.

“Charles?”

D’Artagnan’s head whipped around and his face split into a grin. “You came.”

Athos went to his side and pulled him close. “I’m sorry. I had a lot of thinking to do.”

“I know. Anne explained.”

Athos took d’Artagnan’s head in his hands and kissed him deeply, longingly. “I need you.”

“I love you, Athos.”

Athos went still. “You do?”

“Of course I do, you idiot.”

“So quickly?”

“Why, is there a speed limit?”

Athos chuckled and kissed him again. “Not at all. Can I stay?”

“Like Lassie again?”

“Not like that.” He took the iPad out of d’Artagnan’s hand and set it aside, and kicked off his shoes. “Move over.”

D’Artagnan raised an eyebrow at that, but shifted to let Athos climb up on the bed. Athos put his arms around him. “Comfortable?”

“Very.”

“Liar.”

“Am not.” He snuggled closer. “Best I’ve been all day.”

“I know. I’m really sorry. I get like this.”

“So I hear. I hate it when people shut me out. Just...tell me you need the space, and why, before you run away. That’s all I want. Don’t leave me wondering.”

“I’ll try. I don’t like showing my weak underbelly.”

D’Artagnan kissed him on the cheek, and carded his fingers in Athos’s hair. “It’s not weak to have emotions or be confused. It’s human.”

“I keep forgetting that bit. Charles, I love you too. But I also love Anne. Can you allow that?”

“Not up to me, is it? You love who you love. If you want to sleep with her, I’m not going to stop you, understand?”

“What about...her sleeping with you?”

“If it didn’t upset you and she wanted to, yeah, I would. But if it upsets you, I won’t.”

Athos stared into his brown eyes, so full of life and sweetness. “I wish I could be as relaxed about it as you.”

“You are what you are, Athos. Anne knows that, I know it. You might change your mind, but I’m not gonna push.”

“Thank you.”

Athos started to climb off the bed but d’Artagnan’s fingers grip on his hair tightened. “Hey, where are you going?”

“Charles, it’s late. I’m only here by special permission.”

“So? Stay. Please.”

“All right.” Athos settled back. “How’s the leg?”

“Attached.” D’Artagnan started kissing his jaw, moving up to his ear. Athos turned so he could reach his lips, and d’Artagnan dived in, tongue and all. Athos felt himself getting hard. “When we get back, we’re gonna fuck, Athos.”

“No.”

“No?”

“When you get _out_. I have a perfectly lovely hotel room right here.”

D’Artagnan grinned. “I like how you think.”

“Now, go to sleep. That way, they won’t want to wake you up to make me leave.”

“Brains, beauty, what more could I want in a guy?”

“Wealth?”

“Hey, I’m rich now. The boss gave me shares and stuff.”

“Good. You can keep me in my old age.”

“Sure thing, daddy.”

Athos growled, but he wasn’t serious. He secured his grip on d’Artagnan’s body and closed his eyes. D’Artagnan kept his arm around Athos, holding him just as tight.

To Athos’s surprise, he fell asleep almost instantly.

********************

Aramis’s phone let him know two messages had arrived while he was still waking up. He groaned. Porthos had only come to bed at one am, dealing with things for Treville and Monsieur, and neither of them wanted to be out of bed this early.

He checked the messages. Both texts were from Constance.

_I went up to the hospital early and found two sleepy kittens_

_[image]_

He clicked on the second message to open it. Athos and d’Artagnan were asleep in a hospital bed, wrapped around each other like two little kids.

He replied. _Athos will not be happy if he knows you took this_

_Tough. If they’re going to be adorable in public, they know the risks_

Beside him, Porthos yawned. “Wasgoingon?” Aramis showed him the phone. “Aw. Guess Athos got over himself.”

“I guess he did.”

“Good for him. Now he’s got a second chance.”

Porthos rolled over to look Aramis in the eye. “Everybody deserves at least one, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I do think. And he, like I am, will be very grateful for it,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss Porthos on his beautiful lips. “So I won’t be teasing him.”

“Much.”

“Much,” Aramis agreed. “Just enough so he doesn’t feel left out.”

“Cos nothing says teamwork like having the piss taken out of you over your love life.”

“Exactly so.”

Porthos stretched, giving Aramis a perfect view of his magnificent body. “Do we have to get up yet?”

“Hmmm, as second second in command, I say ‘no’.”

“Heh. As first second in command, I second your second second in command decision.” He grabbed Aramis and rolled on top of him. “Time to mess around?”

Aramis wrapped his legs around Porthos’s waist. “I’m all yours to do what you want with.” He arched as Porthos’s teasing fingers began to open him carefully. “For what I am about to receive....”

“I hope you’ll be truly thankful.”

**Author's Note:**

> My apologies for the many errors there will be here in the details of flying a plane, giving birth and the correct usage of a plane's radio.
> 
> Criticisms, corrections, comments and kudos craved!


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